


There are Doors

by PatHolmes



Category: Buffy/Angel - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:39:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatHolmes/pseuds/PatHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel, Cordelia and Wesley deal with demons and alves</p>
            </blockquote>





	There are Doors

 

THE DOOR IN THE HEDGE

 

APRIL, 2000

 

 

"Hi, Cordelia."

 

"Willow, hi! What are you doing here?"

 

"I, we, need to see Angel. Oh, this is my friend, Tara McKay, and this is her godmother, Ms. Grove. This is Cordelia Chase."

 

"Hi. Ooo, is that Armani? I just love Armani."

 

"How do you do," Ms. Grove smiled.

 

"So, Cordelia, you really type and file and everything?"

 

"Yes, and I'm up to 175 keys a minute, with only a few mistakes. And I haven't erased anything not on purpose lately."

 

"Cordelia, where is…Willow. Hi,” Angel said, as he entered the office.

 

"Angel," Willow said, then got tongue-tied.

 

"They need to see you," Cordelia said, as Willow glanced at Tara, then back at Angel. "This is Tara, and this is Ms. Grove."

 

"Ann Grove. Thank you for seeing us," the older woman said. "Perhaps this is private."

 

Angel took note of her for the first time. Her voice was deep for a woman, soft, but very full and beautiful. She was barely an inch taller than the blonde girl, much shorter than he was. She wore a silk pantsuit in a green so dark it was almost black, over a lighter green silk turtleneck sweater. She wore no cosmetics, scent or jewelry, except for a single silver colored earring, in the shape of in a complicated knot. Her skin was pale and untanned, her black hair in a smooth pleat. Her eyes were a bright, clear emerald. She looked at Tara as she finished speaking.

 

"Cordelia knows all about everything in the business," Angel said.

 

"But this isn't business. It's private, or at least personal. It's about something I did, or maybe I didn't, and I would rather tell just you first," Willow said.

 

"Come on downstairs, then."

 

Downstairs in the living room, the two girls slipped off their back-packs and sat on the couch, holding hands. Angel took the chair in front of them, leaving Ms. Grove to take the chair to his right. Unlike the girls, she carried nothing. Also unlike the girls, she seemed totally at ease. She glanced around his room, her gaze lingering briefly on his book shelves, and then returning to the girls. She settled back in her chair and smiled at Tara, who gulped and looked at Willow.

 

"Now," Angel prompted, as the silence continued.

 

"Tara and I are working on our witchcraft together, and we're doing pretty well. I told her about that curse, the one I put back on you just before Buffy killed you that time?" Willow said in a rush, getting faster at the end.

 

"I remember."

 

"Tara doesn't think I did."

 

"I got my soul back somehow."

 

"But a curse, especially a black curse like the one you had before, is so bad, you can't cast one without damaging your own soul. It gets stained or scarred, you could say. And Willow's soul isn't," Tara said. "I think. And it's important that it not be or that I know about it, if it actually is. I can't do anything about a soul assay, not yet, so I can't find out what I need to know from her."

 

"But there is a spell that will show us if you're cursed or not," Willow said. "See, I was using the disc Miss Calendar left, I had that head injury and everything was so tense and hurried, with you trying to destroy the world and everything, that I'm not sure if I used the whole spell or just parts of it."

 

"I think you used it all: Recently, I lost my soul again and tried to kill Cordelia."

 

"But that doesn't mean you lost your soul," Willow protested. "I mean, it's Cordelia."

 

"And Wesley."

 

"Well, he can be very annoying sometimes."

 

"Willow, I'm glad you cursed me. When I'm like this, at least. If I don't blame you, I don't see that it's anyone else's business. Especially since no one can tell just by looking at you."

 

"But they can," Tara said. "My aunt will be able to tell as soon as she sees Willow and she is already upset since Willow is Buffy's best friend and I wasn't supposed to get involved with the Slayers and vampires."

 

"Your family disapproves of vampires?"

 

"Oh, you never bother us, but Slayers tend to die early and their friends even sooner," Tara said. "And my aunt worries about me."

 

Angel glanced over at the other adult, hoping she could explain.

 

Ms. Grove smiled. "Tara's aunt will be able to tell if Willow has cursed anyone," she said.

 

"Can you?"

 

"I am not permitted an opinion," Ann Grove said.

 

As explanations went, that wasn't much help at all, and clearly he wasn't going to get any more from Ms. Grove. There were times when he wished he was alive just so he could sigh patiently. Angel looked back at Willow.

 

"So can we run the titer? It's a little long, but you don't have to do anything except towards the end and it's not very messy at all," Willow promised.

 

"All right."

 

The two girls cleared the coffee table and spread a clean cloth over it, then unpacked their equipment from their backpacks. Ms. Grove went over to the books, selected one, and retired with it to a chair across the room, well away from the girls' bustle. Angel noticed that although she kept out of the way, she also kept a close eye on what Willow and Tara were doing.

 

The girls were now moving the furniture around, creating a large clear area in the center. In this, they unrolled a long cloth with three circles painted on it, two smaller ones at either end and a slightly larger one in the center. Tara lit a censer and walked around each circle, chanting softly. She returned to the table where Willow was placing something in a mortar. They took turns chanting and grinding, sometimes adding other ingredients. Willow lit two more censers and added the contents of the mortar to them. Smoke started to rise in heavy clouds. Willow spoke one word. The smoke froze. Willow relaxed.

 

"OK," she said. "Now the next part. Angel, we need you to stand in the center. Hold this." She handed him a hollow glass ball. "Right hand only, and don't move out of the circle after we start."

 

"Hold your hand out, please," Tara said. She took a pitcher and basin and rinsed the ball, then dried it and Angel's arm. She took a white cord with knots spaced seemingly randomly along its length and tied the ball to his hand with it, wrapping the cord three times around and tying a complicated knot. "Breathe on the ball, please."

 

"I can't."

 

"He _is_ a vampire, Tara. They don't breathe much," Willow said.

 

"Oh. Yeah. Of course. Ann? Advice, please."

 

"Angel, examine at the sphere thoroughly and imagine yourself inside it."

 

"I'm a claustrophobe."

 

"It's a good thing you don't really sleep in a coffin, isn't it? Imagine a really big sphere," Ms. Grove said.

 

Angel thought Ms. Grove was enjoying all this entirely too much.

 

"All right," Willow said. "That looks as good as it's going to get."

 

"Close the circle."

 

Willow walked three times around Angel, whispering too softly to be heard. Tara tapped the painted circle with a silver wand. The circle started to glow. Willow took the two censers of frozen smoke and stood in the third circle, facing Angel. Tara tapped Willow's circle, then moved behind Angel to stand in the first circle. She tapped her own circle.

 

"Now."

 

The smoke started rising out of Willow's censers as she spread her arms wide. Tara watched the smoke, then leveled her wand at Angel. She was speaking, but he couldn't hear her. The two columns of smoke separated from the censers and spiraled around Angel's circle, then around him, like questing serpents. Tara spoke again and the smoke moved over Angel, one column moved up from his feet, the other down from his head. They met at his heart, then traveled together down his right arm and entered the glass ball. It turned blue.

 

Tara said, "Finis." She stooped to tap her circle. It stopped glowing. She stepped out and released first Willow, then Angel. Giving one tug on the knotted cord, she took the now blue sphere from him.

 

"No curse," she said.

 

"I know I have a curse," Angel said.

 

"Well, you don't. And Willow's soul is fine."

 

"Is it?" Willow asked. "I mean, really? Should I have been the third circle? Does that skew the spell?"

 

"It could," Tara admitted. "I hadn't thought of that."

 

"Why don't you ask Claire?" Ms. Grove said. She had left her book on the chair and was standing beside them, her hands in her pockets.

 

"She'd know," Tara said. "But I don't want her to tell my family about this."

 

"She's your doctor, she doesn't talk about you to anybody, any more than I do. Angel, will you let me consult a friend? It would be nice to settle this so Tara and Willow can start paying attention to their college studies."

 

"Sure, I guess. When …" Angel started to ask, when another woman appeared in the room.

 

She was taller than Ms. Grove by two inches or so, about seven to ten years older, with curly dark red hair up in an insecure bun. She had a warm, rich, color to her skin and faint freckles on her cheeks. She was rounded rather than muscular and had a brisk, interested air, and brown, alert eyes. Angel liked her at once, and only vaguely noticed that she wore thin, faded jeans under a white lab coat.

 

"Now would be best," Ann Grove said. "Claire, this is Angel. Willow may have cursed Angel, which curse he says returns his soul to him — "

 

"Which I like."

 

" — and he wants to keep. So this isn't a matter of curse removal, exactly, but we do need to ascertain if Angel is cursed. Tara is concerned with the state of Willow's soul, not only because no one should be practicing black arts without knowing it, but because of what her family might think.

 

"Angel, this is Claire Galen. She's a healer and curse expert."

 

"Why did I agree to come to Los Angeles? It's hot here; and dry. The only curse here is yours, Ann. And that's not really a curse, I know. I want tea," Claire said, sitting on the couch. "And tell me what you did, please, Tara."

 

"I don't know if I have any tea," Angel said, then watched as Ann Grove handed Claire a cup and saucer from a large tray suddenly on the coffee table. Except for the blue glass sphere, there was no sign of the magical impedimenta the girls had left there. Instead, there were plates of tiny sandwiches and dainty cakes, bowls of raspberries and cream, four more cup and saucers, a tea pot, a tea kettle on a spirit lamp, a tea caddy, a bowl of lemon slices, a creamer, a sugar bowl, sugar tongs, a waste bowl, five wine glasses, five tall glasses and a large silver bowl serving as an ice bucket, containing cider and beer in small bottles, small aluminum cans; a large bottle of wine, one of mineral water and one of vodka.

 

Ms. Grove handed around filled cups and plates. The other women took them rather absently, since Tara and Willow were explaining alternately and Claire was listening intently.

 

"Excuse me, " Ann Grove cut in. "Claire, can Angel have a cocktail?"

 

"Oh, certainly," Claire said, then returned her attention to Tara.

 

"You should have something. What you would you like?"

 

"What are my choices?"

 

"Organic tomato Bloody Mary, vat grown Cambells Bloody Mary, both with or without vodka; wine; coffee or tea."

 

"What's vat grown?"

 

"Factory farmed human blood. It's a commercial product. There's no more onus on it than on any other grocery purchase. After all, the girls had you standing still in that circle for over an hour, and I thought you might be hungry."

 

"It didn't seem that long. I guess I am."

 

Ann took a can out of the ice bucket and handed it to Angel. Cambells Bloody Mary Mix, type AB negative, he read. "Add your own vodka, if you wish; or there's ice or tonic, water," she said. She poured herself a glass from the unlabeled wine bottle in the bucket and settled back in her chair. "You were very kind to the girls." The wine was white — clear and still.

 

"I think I owe Willow a lot. Anyway, it's nice just having people around who aren't trying to kill me."

 

o

 

"Ann," Claire said. "Did they do it right?"

 

"Yes. You can view the playback, but I think she passes."

 

"Angel, why do you think you're cursed?"

 

"The curse gives me my soul. Uncursed, I'm just a vampire."

 

"A quasi-demon-human hybrid with vast amounts of integral magic, but no soul?" Claire was obviously quoting.

 

"Sounds like us."

 

"Right. Ann, I need the table."

 

The tea tray disappeared, leaving the table bare save for the blue sphere and Ann's wine glass. The wine was now a deep red, although she had not refilled the glass; and anyway, there had been only the one bottle of wine.

 

Claire put a large case on the table, opened it and removed two plastic bags and a tool roll. Opening one of the bags, she removed a glass ball and handed it to Angel, who automatically took it in his right hand. Claire opened the tool roll to reveal about a dozen wands of different colors and materials. Taking a clear blue rod, she tapped the ball. It turned blue.

 

"No curse, and if you want, I'll put that opinion in writing."

 

"We're going to go shopping," Ann Grove said, letting go of her glass in mid air. It disappeared.

 

"What about Willow?" Tara asked.

 

"If there's no curse, she didn't cast one, did she? If she didn't cast one, there's nothing wrong with her soul, is there? If Angel wants to continue a consultation with Claire, he should be allowed privacy. We have imposed on him for more than three hours already and we're going shopping. Shoes, I think."

 

"I have shoes," Tara sulked.

 

"You do not have the only feet in the world," Ann said tartly.

 

"I will need to get home later," Claire said.

 

"I'll drive you, after dark," Angel said.

 

"I just came from Seattle, but I didn't bring my phone with me." That last was directed to Ann.

 

Ann turned one hand over. In her palm was a solid crystal ball. She gave it to Claire. "Call me." She and the girls left. Rather prosaically, they used the door.

 

"Are you and Ms. Grove professional witches?" Angel asked.

 

"I am. She's not. I don't know exactly what she is. Her geas is a real work of art, though — multi-leveled, reactive, subtle, and complex. Hold this, left hand."

 

'This' was another hollow ball. Claire struck it with red, green and yellow wands in succession. It not only changed color, it changed shapes. Claire watched it silently, then looked at Angel. "You've had a very interesting life."

 

"Not always pleasant."

 

"Not the same thing at all," Claire agreed. She arranged the wands she had used on the table, blue, red, green and yellow, in a column with the ends aligned, and laid a clear wand over them at right angles. She clapped her hands over the arrangement and picked up the crystal rod. "Linear read out. Point-to-point match. Enhance."

 

Colored bands of light appeared horizontally in the air in front of her. She looked them over, put down the clear rod, and said, "And you're somewhere between two and four hundred years old. But that's tricky, because your soul is older than your body. That's true of everyone, of course, but usually with this spell I get just this life's read-out. Is your age between those limits?"

 

"Yes."

 

Claire picked up the rod: "Elongate base, elongate base, elongate base. Stop. Enhance." She put down the rod. "Move around beside me and tell me what I'm seeing here. Down here, on my left, that's you from birth to first death. How old were you when you became a vampire?"

 

"Twenty-three, well, almost."*

 

"OK. Oh, you can put the sensors down now. Sorry."

 

Angel put the blue ball down on the table and set the other object next to it. It kept cycling through its various shapes and colors as he watched.

 

Claire balanced the clear rod upright at the top of the other wands. She took a laser yardstick and some small mirrors out of her kit and walked over to the left end of the display. At that end, there were only three colors: red, blue and green. She stuck a mirror into the bands of light at the point where those colors were joined by yellow, then more mirrors at other points along the whole length of the read-out. They hung there, suspended. She returned to the left end and measured the first section, then the rest of the bands. "Your soul, the way it's configured now, is approximately 350 years old, maybe a little less. And your body is about a hundred years younger than that."

 

"I'm 265 years old."*

 

"You seem to have died three times, the last time just last fall."

 

"That's right."

 

"And why your soul is about a hundred years older than your body?"

 

"I spent some time in hell recently. Uh, what am I seeing here?"

 

"Red is your physical health. Green is the health of your soul. Yellow is that integral magic I mentioned. And the blue is normal, it indicates the absence of a curse. The colors are totally arbitrary. Here, where the red is half as thick as it was when you were born, is when you became a vampire. The yellow wasn't present when you were born and it picks up here, right when the green disappears, indicating change done to the original specs for your soul, and the red is halved. That's you, pure vampire, uncursed. This is you, cursed: blue line gone, indicating presence of curse; green line back, just like when you were born, indicating the presence of a healthy soul; and still the vampire magic and the very thin red, indicating still dead. And you stay like that for quite a while. Now, two-thirds of the way out on this end, the present, everything's choppy. Lots of changes, real fast. I need more room." Claire walked back to the table and picked up the crystal rod. "Elongate base, elongate base. Stop. From zero, spiral configuration. Elongate base, elongate base, elongate base. Stop. Enhance. Stop. Rotate. Stop." She put the rod back upright on the table. The bands of colors were now wrapped into a cylinder with the last few feet of the right end on the outside.

 

"Here the curse stops and the soul's green indicator is gone. You were pure vampire here, but not for very long, I think."

 

"About half a year."

 

"And here, your soul is restored to health, and right after that, possibly later in the same day, maybe, you're dead-dead, no red at all. Still no curse. No magic, either. And your soul spends all this time in hell, you said. Never seen that before. And then you're back — soul, vampire magic and simply dead, instead of dead-dead, uncursed. The only other interesting thing is this part, this overlap, where you live one day alive and that same day dead, less than half a year ago."

 

"Yes."

 

"You know about that?"

 

"It's OK. Nothing after that?"

 

"No. Why?"

 

"A couple of months after I was dead again, I thought I lost my soul. Tried to kill some human friends of mine. I was drugged and when it wore off, I was back, but if my friends weren't smart, foolish and brave, I might have killed them."

 

"Don't take any more drugs," Claire said. "What freed you from the curse the second time you 'lost your soul'?"

 

"Giving me my soul back was a punishment. I was supposed to suffer, not to have pleasure or happiness in anything."

 

"And?"

 

"I loved a girl. I experienced both pleasure and happiness in our physical and emotional relationship and that was it."

 

"Have you made love to anyone you don't love recently? For comparison. Remember, I'm a doctor."

 

"I haven't made love to anyone recently."

 

"Was being drugged pleasant?"

 

"It was weird. I was happy. I didn't hurt at all."

 

"Happiness is not pleasure; neither is pleasure happiness. Cessation of pain is neither happiness nor pleasure. I think you had a abnormal drug reaction, or possibly a conditioned reflex — either one is more probable than that Willow, who is so soft hearted she won't let anyone kill Spike just because he can't harm humans physically, casting a curse like the one you all describe."

 

"You know Spike?"

 

"I've met him, in a way, and Ann's complained about him. Now, of course, he's a really ugly floor lamp in Ann's front hall, but that's not a real solution, is it? Someone always knows the release word. I'll take some blood and run a sensitivity panel. What drug was it?"

 

"Doxymal."

 

"Roll up your sleeve. I meant it about avoiding drugs. Oh, and alcohol in excess is no safer." Claire produced a rubber band, cotton and a needle. She tied, swabbed and stuck.

 

Angel watched as she slipped a vacuum tube over the needle. It began to fill with blood. He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

 

Claire removed the tube from the needle, pressed a cotton ball over the spot and removed the needle.

 

Angel watched the needle emerge from his arm, then started to fall sideways out of his chair.

 

"Oops," Claire said. She tossed the needle on the table and tried to catch him. "Ann, help," she yelled, as she collapsed beneath Angel's weight.

 

Ann reached around Angel and lifted him off Claire.

 

"Put him on the couch," Claire said, getting to her feet.

 

"So what happened?" Ann asked, carrying Angel over to the couch..

 

"I think he saw the needle. No, sit him up."

 

Ann sat him on the couch and sat on the arm next to him, keeping Angel more or less upright.

 

"Keep a hand on him," Claire said, opening her kit wider.

 

"You think this is entirely magical?" Ann asked, putting her left arm under Angel’s neck and laying her left hand on Angel's forehead; then taking his right hand in her right hand.

 

Angel opened his eyes and looked over at her. Ann was looking at Claire.

 

"There's no way there's a physical cause for his fain t— his blood pressure is zero already. Therefore, it's the magical bits imitating life."

 

"Like art?" Ann said.

 

"Art who? Never mind. How's he doing?"

 

"Better. But this will take a while, this way. He's very resistant to my healing. You want him awake anytime soon?"

 

Angel thought about telling Claire he was all right, but it was too much trouble. He shut his eyes again.

 

"What do you have in mind? I'm really not comfortable giving him anything orally while he's unconscious, even if he's not breathing."

 

"Something simple," Ann said calmly, shifting around and kissing Angel leisurely on the mouth. Her lips were very warm against his.

 

When Angel's free hand moved up to rest in the center of her back, Ann pulled back. He opened his eyes. Ann smiled at him and stroked his cheek. "This works better if you kiss me too, Angel."

 

"OK." He shut his eyes.

 

Ann kissed him again. His hand moved up to the back of her head and he kissed her. After a while, he sat up a little straighter, and she broke the kiss, rising to her feet and releasing his hand.

 

"Works?" he asked.

 

"How are you feeling?" Claire asked Angel.

 

"Strange," he said. "Good, but strange."

 

"Well, your color's better — you're still pale, but you're not green."

 

"I'm gone, then," Ann said, and disappeared.

 

"I'm always pale."

 

"Have you ever had blood drawn before?" Claire asked Angel.

 

"We don't go to doctors much," Angel said. "We either heal or we're dust. Besides, what are they going to do with us, listen to our hearts not beat?"

 

"I can do better than that, although I have never treated a vampire before. Have one of these," she said, handing him a lemon drop. "A restorative, sort of like a sport drink, but for magical beings."

 

Angel unwrapped it and put it in his mouth. It disappeared as soon as he shut his mouth. "That's startling."

 

"Fast acting," Claire said. "Now how do you feel?"

 

"Good, really good."

 

"Have some samples. Try one if you think you're slipping back into an unsouled state. If you don't have any and Ann is present, try holding hands with her. Ann is very restorative. Not that any such state should occur."

 

"You really don't think I'm cursed, do you?"

 

"Nope, I think you're fine. The thing is, at some level you — everybody — knows if you're cursed. It's like rubbing sandpaper over your aura, you can't ignore it."

 

"You can sandpaper an aura?"

 

"Figure of speech; but my observation of your aura and the curse titer reaction both tell me you are not now cursed. However, your curse not only lasted a long time, both parts—what we might term the initial whammy and the follow up kicker—seem to have kicked in with excessive force. I read a lot of trauma at those times. I think you got in the habit of not examining yourself or the curse, simply because it was so painful then. It should not be so painful now, if you care to try. In any case, avoid drugs and I'll get back to you about the sensitivity results. Let me tidy up here and we'll get out of your hair."

 

Claire pulled a cloth and a large envelope out of her kit. She wiped the wands and replaced them in the roll, then stuffed the cloth in the envelope. She gathered up all three spheres Angel had touched and put them in the envelope. Sealing it, she pressed it flat between her two palms. Holding it by one corner, she raised the envelope about a foot above the table. "Burn," she told it, releasing it to hang in mid-air. It went up like flash paper and left no ash. The bands of colored light flared and disappeared.

 

Claire closed up her kit and picked up the crystal ball: "Ann, we're done here."

 

Ann and the girls appeared in the room. "And we're done there," she said.

 

"I'd like a secure line for me and Angel, if he has any more questions," Claire said.

 

"Certainly," Ann agreed. She put down two large shopping bags, took Claire's crystal and turned her other palm up, revealing another ball. She touched the two together, then she handed one to Angel and the other back to Claire. "Speak her name, and after that it's just like a plastic phone, but more secure," she said to Angel.

 

"Thanks," Angel said, examining the ball. It seemed clear, but he could not see through it. Strange, like the rest of the day.

 

"Any time," Ann said, and picked up her shopping bags.

 

"Wait, please," Willow said. "Angel, thanks. Tara and I appreciate your patience. I owe you."

 

"Don't worry about it, Willow."

 

"No, really, we mean it," Tara said.

 

"Ann," Claire asked, looking up at the brunette. "Are you taller than usual?"

 

"Yes, I am. I'm my normal height, again. When you called, I came in a hurry, and now I'm stuck."

 

"You look nice tall," Willow said.

 

She was taller, Angel realized. Very nearly his own height. How had he missed that?

 

"Done?" Ann asked, then she and the other women vanished.

 

 

>>>>>>>|||<<<<<<<

 

 

"There's this boy in the office," Cordelia said.

 

"So, deal with him," Angel said.

 

"I can't," she said. "I look at him, he looks at me and the next thing I know, it's fifteen minutes later, and I haven't even asked him his name yet."

 

"What does he want?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"What did he say?"

 

"'Hello.'"

 

"And?"

 

"That's it," Cordelia said.

 

Wesley came downstairs. "There's this girl in the office," he started.

 

"Girl?" Cordelia said. "And you left him with her?" She hurried up the stairs and into the office. Angel and Wesley followed.

 

There were two people in the office. Cordelia rushed in and came to a halt in front of what appeared to Angel to be an average boy, not particularly handsome, not ugly. He looked over at Angel, who revised his estimate of "boy" to "man."

 

The man had longish blond hair, framing a narrow face. His eyes were blue. He wore navy leather pants and a matching leather jacket over a blue knit shirt with a winged dragon embroidered in navy on the breast.

 

Wesley was smiling foolishly at the other person. Angel glanced around and stiffened. For a moment, he thought it was Buffy. An idealized Buffy, more sensual, voluptuous, and blonder than he had ever seen her.

 

"Knock it off," he snarled. "You, too," he snapped at the man.

 

"We need your help," the woman said, coming to stand just a little too close to him.

 

"I said, stop it," Angel said. "Stop it now, or get out."

 

"Surely, Angel, if she needs our help," Wesley began.

 

"Out."

 

"Oh, all right," the woman said, taking a step back, shifting to a taller and more slender body, but keeping the blonde hair. Her eyes became blue, and her face elongated slightly. The clothes she wore were identical to the boy's.

 

Wesley glanced around, as if he were looking for someone. Cordelia took a breath and sat down behind her desk.

 

"We do need your help," the man said. "And sometimes it helps if we fix your attention on us."

 

"Helps you, maybe," Angel said.

 

"Of course."

 

"Who else?" the woman asked.

 

"We mostly help humans, and you're not human."

 

"Of course not," the man said. "We're not demons, either. Demons being malefic, possessed of great powers and life span, and have the ability to change their shapes at will."

 

"We're not malefic," the woman said.

 

"Well, we don't think we are," the man said. "And we don't really change our shape."

 

"You have a point?" Angel asked.

 

"But this concerns you, too," the woman said.

 

"What does?" he asked. "And perhaps we should start with your names."

 

"Here, we're the Greens. I'm Ivo Green and this is my sister, Filis Green. We're not from around here, and our family sent us to look into things."

 

"Your sister. Good," Cordelia said softly.

 

Angel glanced at her. With Cordelia, he always wondered. "What things?"

 

"We understand you know about a portal called a Hellmouth?"

 

"I've seen it. We've all seen it."

 

"There are other portals, giving access to different worlds or planes."

 

"So some say."

 

"Usually, it's hard to get humans to shut up. It's hard to get you to talk."

 

"I'm not human."

 

"Ah," the woman said.

 

They hadn't known that until just now, Angel realized.

 

"We're young," Ivo said, apparently answering Angel's thoughts. "And it's our first time away from home."

 

"Oh, you must let me show you around," Cordelia said.

 

Angel looked at her, then back to Ivo, who shrugged.

 

"It'll wear off."

 

"It better. What about Hellmouths?"

 

"Portals, actually, or world gates. The terminology is equivalent. They can be opened and shut by the acts of local gods, demi-gods or humans. We, who are normal non-humans, can create and use portals, here and in our native world. Those we call demons can also create gates, here and in their native world. We try to keep ours away from yours or theirs. The only one of ours in Los Angeles is up on the mountain with the planetarium. A new bunch of demons is planning to open a direct gate to their home world right there. Another gate, so close to ours, will really strain the fabric of reality."

 

"It's Los Angeles," Angel said. "Who'll notice?"

 

"Well, when the mountain and everything around it for seven leagues disappears, whoever's left will have a hard time not noticing."

 

"What's a league?" Cordelia asked.

 

"About three miles," Wesley said.

 

"How can you possibly know that?" Cordelia demanded.

 

"OK," Angel said. "That does concern me. What do you want me to do about it?"

 

"And how do you know of this?" Wesley asked. "If this is your first time away from home?"

 

"We have seers," Ivo said. "Losing this gate will seriously inconvenience us. We do not deal well with inconvenience."

 

"Or any form of disappointment," Filis said.

 

"Grow up," Angel said. "What do you want me to do?"

 

"We know where, and in a general way, who. We need to know exactly who and when. Once we know those data, we can use our gate to bring in some mages, who can deal with the demons."

 

"Why not just bring them here now, and wait for the demons?"

 

"They get bored easily," Ivo said.

 

"They wander off," Filis said. "Shack up with mortals, start stealing from the Huntington Library or the Metropolitan Museum, become dolphins or rock stars, or something. There's always something!"

 

"I'm surprised you keep a portal open at all," Wesley said.

 

"Well, this place is always interesting," Ivo said.

 

"It is that," Wesley said.

 

"If your enemies are demons, what are you? Besides not human?" Angel asked.

 

The two Greens exchanged a glance. "Does that matter? We will swear any oath you want that we mean no harm to you or any human."

 

"In any case, the demons are also your enemies," Filis said.

 

"And a circle twenty-one miles in radius contains nearly 1400 square miles," Wesley said.

 

"If I don't know what you are, how can I know what oaths you might consider valid?" Angel pointed out. "But it seems I should help you. Don't bother Cordelia or Wesley again, though, or you're on your own; understand?"

 

"They would enjoy it," Filis said, glowing just a little. "So would you."

 

"No."

 

"Your loss."

 

"Cordelia, start an account for them. Wesley, what do we know about portals — when is the best time to open one or anything like that. Ivo, tell me more about which demons are opening the new gate and anything else you know. Filis, give Cordelia a retainer. US currency or gold."

 

oOo

 

"He won't care if it rhymes, he'll want to see this now," a very junior demon was trying to insist to his superior.

 

"You're new here, Zolio. This is more than just data. Form is important."

 

"This is news. Speed is more important than form."

 

"The style book says: Use heroic couplets wherever possible."

 

"All right," Zolio said. "Let's record the prophecy in rhyme, but let's give him the raw data. After all, he has to sign off on this and he may want to write his own poem."

 

"He can't: he's a mere bureaucrat, a form-filler-outer. WE are the techs. WE write the oracles."

 

"None the less, I really think we should let him have some input. He'll like the taste better."

 

"Oh, very well. But you'll have to do it — we're busy."

 

"And I think 'orange' should go — try 'scarlet' or 'rust' instead."

 

"PI."

 

"What?"

 

"Poetically incorrect. 'Orange' stays.

 

"Good luck," Zolio said, and left.

 

 

 

Entering the reception area, Zolio again wondered why, Geiorse, so physically perfect himself, picked a wreck like Kartha as his PA. As always, he decided Geiorse liked the contrast.

 

"I need to see him."

 

"Why?"

 

"They're sitting on this, and I think he should see it now."

 

"What is it?"

 

"It's for the boss."

 

"Wait here," Kartha said, and went into the inner office. After a fairly long time, he returned. "He'll see you now," Kartha said, holding the door open for Zolio and following him in.

 

"Thank you for seeing me," Zolio said.

 

"Why am I seeing you?" Geiorse asked.

 

"I found this in when I arrived tonight," Zolio said, neatly shifting responsibility off his shoulders.

 

Geiorse glanced the notes the prophetic demon had scribbled down and handed them over to Kartha. After Kartha looked up at him: "When did you come on duty?" Geiorse asked in a quiet voice.

 

"About two hours ago," Zolio said. "It took me this long to get a copy."

 

"And this was ready how long before you found it?"

 

"I'm guessing maybe three or four hours into last shift. The gloss was done when I got here, and that always takes a while."

 

"Stay here," Geiorse said, and headed for the door, which opened before him.

 

Zolio moved to watch him exit Kartha's office and stride down the hall, Kartha right behind him. Good luck, guys, he thought.

 

Three minutes later, Geiorse returned. Tossing a pair of heads into a corner, he said: "You're now in charge of the Prophecy Department. Ignore the style book, give me the raw data at once, and the gloss as soon as it's written. Get out.

 

"Kartha! Get me a team of hounds. And a team of agents—No, two of each. One set starts at the Alvar gate and one goes to that damn vampire's address. They're looking for two Alves who came through tonight. Find them, bring them here."

 

"And the vampire?"

 

"Leave him alone, at least until we're sure if he knows about the Alves or about the portal. Take note if he is doing anything strange, but do not alert him."

 

Zolio passed beyond hearing as he headed down to the Prophecy Department.

 

oOo

 

"It's time for dinner. If you eat, that is," Cordelia said to Ivo. "Or we could just go for coffee and dessert."

 

"We eat. We want to try New England Boiled Dinner," Ivo said.

 

Wesley choked.

 

"I don't know what that is, let alone where we might find it here," Cordelia said.

 

"There's a soi disant Irish pub just east of here," Wesley said. "I believe if you order…"

 

"No, somewhere else perhaps. Or we could get MREs. We've heard good things about MREs."

 

"From who?" Angel asked.

 

"Sort of relatives," Filis said.

 

"I know," Cordelia said, "we'll head for the Gourmet Ghetto and stroll and look at the menus. We're sure to find something. Bring your credit card," she said to Ivo.

 

"I have mine," Filis said.

 

"Are we all going?" Cordelia asked. "Shouldn't you stay here and help Wesley and Angel?"

 

"No," Filis said, fully as flatly and as unarguably as Angel ever did. Cordelia gave up.

o

 

After the other three left, Angel asked Wesley: "What did she look like to you?"

 

Wesley frowned, then said, "A very young and very imperious Dame Judith Anderson, costumed as Medea; which is rather revealing and more interesting than I care to think about. What did you see?"

 

"Buffy," Angel said shortly.

 

"Ah." After a short silence, Wesley continued: "There are records of an ability called glamour or fascination. You vampires can do it a little, or something very like it, but the very best practitioners are fays, also called elves or fairies. There is a whole song cycle about it in Scotland and Ireland, possibly several song cycles, depending on how rigorously you separate the various thematic elements in the ballads."

 

"Damn, I wish I hadn't let Cordelia go off with them."

 

"You made it plain to them hurting her will mean the loss of your help, Angel," Wesley said. "I think they believe that. There is one thing, however: If they are fays, they were telling the truth about how poorly they deal with disappointment. Perhaps you should not turn your back on Filis. Now, what do we have about magic gates, I wonder."

o

 

"Raw fish!?" Filis said. "We might as well be at home!"

 

"We don't need to have sushi. How about Thai?" Cordelia asked. "Everything is cooked and can be spicy or bland, any way you want. Or over there is a smorgasbord place. It was trendy last year, but it's still good food."

 

"No," Ivo said. "Let's try the shish kebab place up that way."

 

o

 

"There is only one trace. They must still be inside."

 

"I don't think so," another hound said. "I don't think they're anywhere around right now."

 

"Go around the block again," the second team leader said. "We are to leave the vampire alone. I will report." He opened his phone and called Geiorse.

 

"Sir, either they have been here or they are still here with the vampire. I was wondering: can they apport?"

 

"An excellent question. Get out of the vampire's sight and I will call you back." Geiorse called the first team, who were staking out the Alvar gate on Mt. Griffith.

 

"Sir!"

 

"Have you found any trace of them?"

 

"No, sir. As far as we can tell, they arrived here, opened the cave and exited via the gate."

 

"Very well. Go down to the vampire's office." He thought again. "Do not, repeat, not, go in. Leave the vampire alone. Call the second team and obtain their location. Go there and meet the team leader. He will direct you to a trail. Follow it. If you find the Alves at the end, bring them here. Understood?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Geiorse disconnected and sighed. You had to be very careful what orders you gave to enlisted demons; they took the strangest things literally. And if you used smarter underlings, they tried to usurp your place.

 

o

 

"No, not that way. That way leads back to the vampire's. Go the other way, towards all those little food places," the second team leader said. "I don't know why Geiorse uses them," he continued as the first team of agents and hounds moved along Cordelia's and the Greens' track. "We should have been given the chance to score."

 

"They could still come out," one of the hounds muttered.

 

"Maybe. We'll wait until they do or we're relieved."

 

o

 

"That's a lot of food," Cordelia said.

 

"So we don't eat all of it. I'm sure some of the starving mendicants without would like it."

 

"Probably," Cordelia guessed. "So where are you guys really from? Far away can mean anywhere."

 

"That's why we said that," Filis said.

 

"Do you ever go anywhere _alone_?" Cordelia asked Ivo.

 

o

 

"Wait here," the team leader said. "When I call you, you all go in the front. I will be coming in the back. We all know what their auras look like, so we grab them and no one else. What do we do?"

 

"We go in when you say, we grab the Alves, and we don't grab any one else. Then what?"

 

"We return to Geiorse for praise and promotions."

 

"OK."

 

o

 

 

 

"Baba ghanouj," the waiter said, placing a dish of green dip in the center of the table. "The cart will be right with you."

 

"Thank you," Filis said, eyeing him in a thoughtful way.

 

"We don't have time," Ivo said.

 

"I suppose not. How do we eat this?"

 

"Dip the bread in," Cordelia said, demonstrating.

 

"What was in this?" Ivo indicated his glass.

 

"Vinegar, sugar, mint and water."

 

"No wine?"

 

"Not here."

 

The door to the kitchen swung open and a chef pushing a cart passed their table and stopped at a table near the door. Ivo watched as the chef threaded slices of meats and vegetables on skewers and laid them on the grill.

 

"It looks good."

 

"It can be spicy," Cordelia said.

 

The kitchen door opened again, and this time, the chef and cart headed directly for their table. Before the door closed completely, it was slammed open again.

 

At the same time, the main door opened. Through both doors, three demons entered the restaurant. The three coming at Cordelia and the Greens from the front door knocked the grill cart out of their way.

 

The coals from the grill landed on the table and ignited the tablecloth. Some skidded over the edge to land on the rug and the banquette seat behind the table and start them smoldering.

 

The three from the kitchen glanced around, then headed for Filis and Cordelia. Ivo had taken one look at the intruders and dived under the table. The chef wheeling the Green's cart looked startled and glanced behind him to see what had aroused Ivo and Filis's interest.

 

Watching the demons from the kitchen, the chef ran the cart into the back of the diner at the table next to Cordelia. The diner, rising abruptly, knocked over the cart. The charcoal started burning the rug. The sprinklers came on.

 

The demons reached Filis and grabbed at her. Cordelia hit the nearest one in the face with the plate of baba ghanouj. Filis kneed the second, doubling him over, but the third got a large cloth bag over her head and pulled it down to her feet.

 

The three demons from the main entrance joined them as two of the demons gathered up the bag containing Filis and headed for the kitchen. The team leader wiped baba ghanouj from his face. He eyed Cordelia with annoyance and shoved her away with a hand flat on her chest.

 

Cordelia flew back. She stopped when she tripped flat on her back over another diner already on the floor. She rolled over and started to get up.

 

The team leader picked up the table and tossed it through the front window, revealing Ivo crouched down and apparently whispering to his hand. He glanced up, then around, and skidded something across the floor to Cordelia, who covered it with one hand.

 

The team leader growled, grabbed Ivo, pulled him to his feet and knocked him out. Two more demons gathered him up and carried him out through the kitchen door. The other demons followed them.

 

Cordelia stood up, then ran out of the restaurant and headed straight for the office.

 

o

 

 

"He tossed this to me. I don't think the demons saw, or they would have taken it back." Cordelia produced a silver egg.

 

"What is it?" Wesley asked.

 

"I don't know," Cordelia said. "Other than silver and impossible to open."

 

"Let me see," Angel said. Cordelia handed him the egg. It was nearly two centimeters thick at the edges, increasing to four centimeters in the center, and about ten centimeters long in its greatest length, with a curved front and back, almost as if a chicken egg had been flattened and silver plated. It had an ornate ring at the smaller end and was heavier than it looked.

 

Gripping the ring, he was able to swing the center part out, like extracting a flat oyster from a shell. The center was a crystal oval, banded in silver. He held it up and looked at the room through it. It seemed clear, but he couldn't see through it, exactly the way he could see nothing through the phone Ann had given him.

 

"A magnifying glass?" Cordelia asked.

 

"Quiet," Angel said, and closed it. For lack of anywhere better, he walked over to the refrigerator and placed the locket on a mostly empty shelf and closed the door. "We should get a safe," he said.

 

"Do you know what it is?" Wesley asked.

 

"I think it's some kind of phone," Angel said. "And I don't know who's on the other end or how sensitive it is, but do I know someone to ask."

 

oOo

 

Tara and Willow popped into the living room, stumbling to regain their balance.

 

"We should practice that," Willow said.

 

"We're better," Tara said. "We got here, I mean both of us, and all our stuff."

 

"Hi," Willow said, looking around. "Ann took Spike to the doctor, but we decided we could help. So what are we supposed to look at?"

 

o

 

Tara eyed the egg and drew back slightly. Willow reached for it and Tara pushed her hand flat on the table. "Not yet," she said. "So w-where did you get this?"

 

Briefly, Angel told her about the new portal, the Greens, their capture, and the need to rescue them.

 

"Let me try this," Tara said, taking a pair of glasses out of her backpack. "It is a phone, and it's off. If this is his, does she have one, too?" She turned to Angel as she spoke, started, and hurriedly took off the glasses.

 

"Why not? They were dressed a lot alike, maybe they have the same accessories too,"

 

"This sort of phone is verbally activated. What's her call sign?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"We'll try to override then. What's her name?"

 

"Filis."

 

"Her real name, I mean."

 

"That's all she told us."

 

"This is like guessing a password," Tara said. "People aren't very inventive about passwords, Willow says. Ann has a lot to say on the subject of use names, but I bet Filis never thought twice about hers. I think, if I'm right about what they are, she would be limited in her choice of languages," she said. "What was her attitude like?"

 

"Annoying," Cordelia said.

 

"Cocky," Angel said.

 

"Smug," Wesley said.

 

"OK. A simple translation and substitution." Tara said. "If everyone but Angel would move back, please. Say this — " she wrote a woman's name on a piece of paper and underlined the last syllable " — to the phone and don't tell it to anyone else."

 

"Turn it on, first," Angel said.

 

"Here."

 

"Cole," Angel told the phone. "Hey. It chimed."

 

Tara put her hand over the name; it vanished. She burned the paper with a whispered word, and relaxed. The flat crystal brightened, then filled with Filis's image

 

"Filis?" Angel asked.

 

"How did you reach me?" she asked after a startled silence.

 

"Where are you?"

 

"Give me that," Ivo said. The image in the crystal spun around then settled on Ivo's face. "Hi. I'm glad you finally managed to turn it on. I don't know where we are. It's the opening demons, though. Tell my phone: S,T,A,R and T,R,A,C,E. Two words. It will lead you to me. There are a lot of them, so be careful." He rang off.

 

"Great," Angel said.

 

"Not very helpful," Wesley agreed.

 

"His phone will lead us to him?" Cordelia asked.

 

"Like Lassie?" Willow asked.

 

"We'll find out. Why is she so different, so unsure of herself?" Angel asked Tara.

 

"She thinks you know her real name. That gives you a lot of power over her; you can probably make her do anything you want."

 

"Like going home?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Good. Can you figure out what Ivo's real name might be?"

 

"He's pretty cocky, too, isn't he? Probably. I guess it's one of two names, and probably the opposite this time. A sort of Goth thing."

 

"Whatever. Get it ready. It may come in handy."

 

"Tara," Willow said. "We have a map of LA. Can we use the phone with the map and the locator spell, not as a phone, just as a possession, so we have a general idea of where they are?"

 

"Oh, yeah. Easy."

 

"And quick?" Angel asked.

 

"This time, yes. Ann took me shopping at a professional level magic shop tucked away in Pike Place Market after Claire checked my curse titer spell and approved me to use more pre-prepared apparatus. Like bagged salad. Very convenient."

 

"The things they have," Willow said, clearing off the table. "Even more interesting than shoes."

 

"Really?" Cordelia asked.

 

"Well, if you're a witch," Willow allowed.

 

Tara spread a map open on the table, took out a foil packet, about the size of a ramen flavoring packet, and a plastic bag. She put the phone in the bag, opened the packet and shook a small amount of powder into the bag over the phone. She closed the bag, whispered to it, shook it, then dumped the powder over the map, where it swirled briefly, then piled up in a tidy four sided pyramid. "There," she said. "That block. We could refine the locus, but it would take a while. Qu-quick enough?"

 

"Fine," Angel said. "It's late enough. Wesley and I go, you three stay here: compare what you know about portals, when, how and where they can be opened. We'll be back with the Greens."

 

"Sure of that, are you?" Wesley asked, heading for the door.

 

"If we don't get back, we won't have to worry about it," Angel said, putting Ivo's phone in his pocket next to the one Ann had given him.

 

"Quite true."

 

o

 

"There's only one building, which simplifies matters considerably."

 

"I don't know why demons bother to come here, if they're going to live in warehouses," Angel said.

 

"It depends, I suppose, on what they live in at home," Wesley said. "The ancient Spartans would feel quite at home in a warehouse or a barracks."

 

"There may be only one building, but there are a lot of doors."

 

"Try the phone?"

 

"Cole," Angel said.

 

"Hi," Ivo whispered.

 

"We're outside. Where are you in the building?"

 

"Judging from the sunset, we're in the east-north corner, in a cage."

 

"OK. Which floor?"

 

"Ground."

 

"Wait," Angel said, then to Wesley: "Let's go around."

 

"If we had a Range Rover," Wesley said, "we could just batter down a door, use a grappling hook on the cage and drag it out."

 

"If we had a grappling hook."

 

"And didn't care about the contents of the cage," Wesley admitted. "Don't turn! Go straight!"

 

"What?" Angel asked, driving on to the next block.

 

"A car is coming out. No, several cars," Wesley said.

 

Angel pulled over where he could watch the intersection in the mirrors. He counted four gray Infinitis traveling in caravan, then a fifth hurrying to catch up.

 

"Four to six in a car, twenty to thirty gone. Do you think there are any left inside?"

 

"Twenty or so fewer, at any rate," Wesley said. "Unless there was only the driver in each, in which case, only five fewer."

 

"I saw people front and back, at least ten fewer. Let's go in."

 

"The same door they came out of?"

 

"Why not? It's the closest."

 

Angel turned the car around and entered the warehouse through the large door in the center of the south side. The space inside was divided into quarters by aisles leading to the large doors in each side. In the south-east and south-west quarters were more cars, some trucks and a school bus or two. The north-west corner was piled with packing crates, while the north-east corner was mostly bare, except for a cluster of demons and a metal cage. He accelerated towards it.

 

Running over three demons encouraged the rest to leave. Angel didn't bother pursuing them. He left the car and approached the cage.

 

Ivo and Filis were inside, sitting on a packing crate, which sat on the solid metal floor. Angel inspected the door and didn't see a lock.

 

"You're not locked in?"

 

"We can't touch the metal," Ivo said. "They put us in and pulled out the boards we walked in on."

 

"So what type of metal is this?" Wesley asked.

 

"Silver," Filis said.

 

"Did they make this especially for you?" Angel asked, "Or did they just happen to have an empty twelve by twelve by twelve foot sterling silver cage sitting around?"

 

"They didn't say and I didn't ask. The boards are over there." Ivo said. Angel brought them over to the cage.

 

"If you can't touch silver," Wesley said, "what is the metal on your phone?"

 

"Platinum," Filis said.

 

Angel swung the door wide open, walked in, and dropped the boards in a rough line from the crate to the door. Ivo and Filis warily edged through the doorway.

 

"The literature on the subject says you can't touch steel," Wesley said.

 

"We can touch steel. What do you think our swords are made of?" Filis asked.

 

"Actually, I have always wondered."

 

"My phone," Ivo said. "Where's my phone?"

 

"Here," Angel said.

 

Ivo grabbed it out of his hand. He was about to speak, then glanced up at Wesley and Angel. "Excuse me, this is private."

 

"Make the damn call as we go," Angel growled, losing patience at last.

 

"Oh, all right," Ivo said, getting into the back seat of the car.

 

"If it is that urgent," Wesley said, settling into the shot-gun seat, "why didn't you use Filis's phone?"

 

"Hers can't reach through the gates to home, the battery is run down," Ivo said. "And she brought no spares."

 

"This is the phone that goes with this outfit," Filis said. "You didn't tell me you wanted me to pack extra batteries."

 

"I did too."

 

"Stop that," Angel said. His voice was very quiet and very calm and very cold.

 

After a very prickly silence, Ivo said quietly, "I do need to call."

 

"Call, then."

 

Ivo spoke briefly, and unintelligibly as far as Wesley and Angel were concerned. As he closed the phone, he said to his sister: "They're on it."

 

"What happened since we saw you last?" Angel asked.

 

"Well, we found out the opening is tonight."

 

"That's where everybody went?"

 

"Yes. We pointed out to them how dangerous what they were doing is, and they laughed. They seemed to think they would be immune to the destruction."

 

"Arrogant and supercilious," Filis muttered.

 

"Well, they are semi-aquatic demons," Ivo allowed. "If worse come to worst, they won't be that troubled by emerging in mid ocean."

 

"They're not semi-aquatic," Filis objected. "They just use boats a lot."

 

"And in any case," Ivo started, then he and Filis screamed.

 

"What?" Angel said.

 

"We have to get out of here," Ivo said.

 

"Where?" Filis asked.

 

"We can't!" Ivo said. "I can't — can you?"

 

Ping! The crystal phone ripped out of his pocket and hovered in front of Angel's eyes.

 

"Angel!" Ann's voice snapped out. "What is going on and what just happened?"

 

"Ann, I'm driving and I can't see where I'm going with the phone in my face."

 

"Park. Do it now, Liam." The ball floated over to his right shoulder and rested there.

 

Angel was startled to hear his given name. He hadn't used it in over two hundred years. How did Ann know it?

 

Ivo and Filis were staring at the ball. "Uh, Angel?" Ivo asked. "Where did you get that, if I may ask, I mean?"

 

"A woman named Ann Grove gave it to me."

 

"I think you're wrong on both counts," Filis said.

 

He pulled the car over and turned to the ball on his shoulder. "OK. We're parked." And the four of them were out of the car and standing in Angel's living room.

 

"Oh, hell," Ivo said.

 

"It may be OK," Filis said. "Look again."

 

Cordelia and Tara were on the couch, unconscious, Willow was crying in a chair near them, and Ann Grove was standing in the center of the room. She wore another pants suit, this one dark gray over a black crew neck shirt. Her hair was braided and wound around her head. Her stony gaze settled on Ivo and Filis, and grew harder yet. She beckoned Ivo and Filis forward and made a small circle in the air with one hand; then she began to speak.

 

Angel couldn't hear a word. From his face, neither could Wesley. Angel looked at Ann again and decided not to interrupt her. For one thing, there seemed to be a crystal wall around Ann and the two Greens. He touched it. Cold and smooth. He rapped it with a finger. Nothing. It went up over his head and down to the floor.

 

That was both interesting and strange. If Ann was not a witch, according to Claire, who should know; and not a woman, as Filis implied, what was she? Clearly, she had power and the skill to use it — although perhaps moving cars bothered her — in a simpler, more direct manner than either Claire or Tara and Willow. Equally clearly, her exact status was not something even her friends knew with any certainty.

 

"Who is she?" Wesley asked.

 

"Ann Grove, Tara's soi-disant godmother, and a shape-shifter and teleport at least. Maybe not human, but very powerful. Don't get her mad at you."

 

"Right. What happened here, I wonder?"

 

They both looked over at Willow. They exchanged a glance, then Angel fetched a towel, a damp wash cloth and Kleenex from the bathroom, while Wesley got her a glass of water.

 

"Here, Willow, drink this."

 

"Now, Willow, can you tell us what happened here?" Angel asked.

 

"Cordelia screamed, clutched her head and fainted, Ann appeared — just in time to catch Tara as she fainted — then we got Cordelia and Tara on the couch. Ann — she's in a really bad mood, I've never seen her like this — said they were really all right and after that, she talked to you and you were all here. Look! Tara's awake."

 

"Ann," Tara said. Ann turned away from the Greens, made a chopping motion with one hand, and crossed the room to her. "It closed. It closed and we're here."

 

"Not quite," Ann said calmly. "The gate was isolated, not closed, and it isn't one of yours — it's one of theirs." Ann waved at Ivo and Filis. "Right after that, you got smacked with a quarantine spell — demon magic and very strong. It hit you hard and you fainted. Don't worry. If we manage to live through the next several hours, we'll be fine and you'll have had first hand experience of the inescapable fact that actions have consequences. Coming here, unprepared, unreadied, and without telling me, however well intentioned you might have been, may get both you and your lover killed. Ponder that a while, and try to think of a way to help." She brushed a hand over Tara's forehead and moved over to Cordelia.

 

"Ann!" Willow said.

 

"And is the least of that false, Witch?"

 

"Ah. Ah, no. No, not really. No."

 

"You can help think, you know," Ann said, more gently.

 

Willow took her place and held Tara's hand.

 

"We might not live?" Angel said.

 

"We may not. The Alves," Ivo and Filis again, "say their monitors on the other side of their gate panicked, and threw heavy protection around the gate on Mt. Griffith. That panicked the demons, who blocked the gate, which pretty much guarantees the destruction of the fabric of reality. The demons then quarantined Los Angeles. If the Alves or you or anyone else helping them tries to get out, we will be caught, which will prove very unpleasant." Ann took Cordelia's hands in hers and focused on her. Cordelia's color improved and her eyes opened, briefly.

 

"Can you bring in help?" Angel asked. "Ivo and Filis said they had mages who could deal with the demons."

 

"They're trapped on the other side," Ivo said.

 

"And in any case, no, I could not. I barely got in myself," Ann said. "I can't get Tara out, so I stay. However, since her life is at risk here, I can help."

 

"We know about the circle of destruction," Wesley started.

 

"It's not a circle, Watcher, it's a sphere, but since the expanding volume of destruction will come up against the deep earth magics that really hold the planet together, it's actually more like a hemisphere, or maybe a little bit more. Sort of a softly collapsed basketball." Ann's hands sketched a flat-bottomed ball in the air, then held Cordelia's hand again. She continued:

 

"That will be bad enough: the faults will shake, we'll have ocean beaches up against the Cascades and all the volcanoes will be revitalized. It may not be the end of the world again, but it could be at least the end of California as we know it."

 

"Rodeo Drive," Cordelia murmured, opening her eyes.

 

"Yes, that will go, I'm afraid," Ann said gently. "But tell us what you saw, Cordy, and we may get to shop there yet."

 

At least Ann could remember Cordelia had a name. Angel hoped that was a sign she was getting her temper under control.

 

"A book," Cordelia said. "We were all there, and Willow had a book."

 

"The title…" Wesley started, only to be frowned down by Ann, who asked:

 

"A big book? A little book?"

 

"A little book. Soft, sort of fuzzy. Blue."

 

Ann glanced over at Willow, who was frowning. Willow looked up and shook her head. "Did you see where we got the book?" Ann asked Cordelia.

 

"You got it from Giles," Cordelia said.

 

"Satisfactory," Ann said. She stood up and smiled down at Cordelia. "Would you like some tea? Or anything?"

 

"Ginger ale? No, Perrier, with lime."

 

"Here. Excuse me, I'm going to try something." Ann moved a little way off and started talking to a crystal phone that appeared on her palm: "Rupert. Oh, good. Hi. No. I have a situation. Do you have a little book, apparently limp binding in maybe blue velvet or blue suede? Spells, possibly. Ah, maybe rituals? Good. Focus on it, please. I have it. Thank you." She thought for a moment, then continued: "You and Buffy and her friends are spending the evening in Seattle with Claire. Olivia, too, that's fine. Yes, Xander. And Anya."

 

"Miss Kitty," Tara said.

 

"And the cat," Ann continued. "You'll either be back tomorrow, or you'll know why you have to live in Seattle. And Joyce and Finn. I'll talk to you later."

 

Ann lowered the phone and handed a small blue velvet book to Willow. "Look this over. I can work through their spell, so I'm going to move some of our friends around. I see no reason why Spike should be the only thing I saved from Sunnydale, if worse comes to worst. Claire. Hi. Maybe not. I need you to look after some people tonight. Thank you. No. No. You gave your word — leave Spike alone unless I'm there. Can you just put him in the garden? I don't care — run vines up him. I'll call you when I can. Yes. I'll tell him." The phone vanished and she turned to Angel. "Call Claire in the morning, not too early. She has a bunch of sudden guests, or will in just a moment. Can I use your bedroom, Angel? I'll need to concentrate."

 

"Sure. That door."

 

"Oh," Willow said, "Amy, who's still a rat."

 

"Not your parents?"

 

"They're in Minneapolis."

 

"And the rat," Ann agreed, going away.

 

"Willow? Mr. Giles, Olivia and Mrs. Summers?" Tara asked Willow very softly.

 

"Oh. Oh! My goodness. I guess Ann didn't think of that," Willow said. "Well, they're adults, as they keep reminding us. They'll cope."

 

"What is she?" Angel asked Ivo.

 

"I'm not getting her any madder than she is. If you want to know, ask her; if she wants you to know, she'll tell you. But I'll tell you, we're lucky she's under restraints."

 

"If she weren't under a compulsion to defend the girl in the first place, she wouldn't be here yelling at us," Filis said. "Although, if she weren't under compulsions, she wouldn't stop with just yelling."

 

"The thing is, these geas always come to an end: somebody, somewhere, knows how to release her, or there is a simple time limit, or it's linked to the imposer's life or to some other condition that has to be fulfilled — and it always is. She will not always be so hampered in her actions. And she knows where we live."

 

"Why was she yelling at you two, exactly?"

 

"She says we should have closed down our gate as soon as we knew about the demons selecting Mt. Griffith. As though we do anything for a demon's convenience."

 

Angel didn't say anything, but he agreed with Ann that closing Ivo's and Filis's gate would have eased the problem they all faced now. He also thought that Ann, while verbally harsh, had acted quickly and apparently as well as she was able to save Tara's and Willow's friends in Sunnydale. Buffy would be safe.

 

Willow paged through the book.

 

Tara sat up and looked over Willow's shoulder at a few pages. "Nothing about opening?" she asked. "Or not opening?" She looked over at Filis and Ivo. "How do you open a gate, anyway? I've never seen that done."

 

"Ask your bossy friend," Filis said.

 

"In theory," Ivo said, "you stretch reality thin enough to poke a hole in it and then you do poke a hole in it and re-solidify it around the hole. If you thin it too much, or you're too close to another hole, it all shreds."

 

"How do they stretch reality?" Angel asked.

 

"How much math do you have?"

 

"Probably not that much," Angel said, "and it doesn't matter anyway. How do we stop them?"

 

"Stop their ritual," Ivo said. "Which will not be that easy."

 

"Oh, oh," Willow said. "To re-impose sanity on one who is crazed. A spell to strengthen reality in a madman's mind.' It's the only one that seems to come even close."

 

"We're not dealing with a person," Wesley objected.

 

"See here, this part is where we recite the madman's true name, and what he thinks his true name is, and what his true name is called, and any other name of his that we know. We substitute the name of the mountain — "

 

"Use longitude and latitude," Ann said, coming back into the room.

 

" — here and that should do it."

 

"And all the names we can find," Ann said. "Willow, one of your allies is a magical being. If this spell works, what happens to him?"

 

"Who?"

 

"Angel."

 

"Not those two?" Willow indicated Ivo and Filis

 

"Alvar are natural beings, just not human or demonic. Angel has a lot of magic keeping him alive. If you take that away, which is what the reality spell may do, what happens to him?"

 

"He turns mortal?"

 

"And dies?"

 

"Maybe he should stay here," Willow suggested.

 

"No," Angel said.

 

Willow looked up at him. "Well," she started.

 

"I can run protections for him," Ann said. "Now, does anyone know what time frame the demons are planning?"

 

"Tonight," Wesley said.

 

"High Moon," Ivo said. "There, not here, about three hours from now."

 

"Here," Ann said. "Somebody figure out how to work this." She handed Wesley a GPS receiver, a package of batteries and an instruction manual.

 

"Let me see that," Cordelia said, taking it from him. "I've seen these. Everybody, but everybody, has one for their car. I was thinking we should get one."

 

"After you can use that, look at these," Ann said, passing two stun rods and two stun guns over to Cordelia and Wesley.

 

"Ivo," Angel said. "Where are they going to be? Willow, Tara, does your map show the planetarium?"

 

"Let me look," Tara said.

 

"This is nice," Ivo said. "I like maps. We're here, our gate is. It's hidden, of course. They will be opening their gate here, see this level area? It's sort of level."

 

"That is close," Tara said. "Are they doing this on purpose? To destroy California or even your country?"

 

"It doesn’t matter," Angel said. "We have to stop them."

 

"Stop or kill?" Ann asked him.

 

"Wesley," Angel asked. "When can they try this again?"

 

"Sixty-three Earth years," Wesley said. "It has to come out even," he explained. "And conditions will recur here every seven years and there every nine, so it's sixty-three Earth years until they can attempt to open a gate to their world from this spot again."

 

"Stop," Angel said after a moment's thought. "If they leave, fine."

 

"Then, if I may make a suggestion, put us above them. Harder for them to attack us, uphill, and easier for them to run away, downhill," Ann said.

 

"And how are we getting there?" Filis asked.

 

"I'm hoping Ann can move us," Angel said. "Otherwise, we're really at a disadvantage."

 

"From here to, say, there?" She indicated a spot above and west of where Ivo said the demons would be, between the existing Alvar gate and the demons' site.

 

"Fine."

 

"I can do that."

 

"Angel, do you have any spices in the kitchen? We'll need some sage," Willow said.

 

"What about the hair?" Tara asked.

 

"Dust from the ground, I guess."

 

"The kitchen is mostly empty," Angel said. "I don't cook."

 

"Make a list, Willow. I can probably import what you need," Ann said.

 

"Do either of you want a weapon?" Angel asked Ivo and Filis. "You, Ann?"

 

"I'll be ready," Ann said. She moved away with the girls and spoke quietly with them for some time. Willow nodded occasionally, but Tara just got paler and paler.

 

"We have our own, thanks," Ivo said, as a sling materialized in his hands. Filis placed a bow and quiver on the table as she strapped a dagger around her waist. Angel shrugged and went to his weapons locker. He selected a large war axe; it would slow down a smaller man, but he was strong enough to use it swiftly.

 

Ann left Willow, who seemed calm, and Tara, who was trying to appear resolute. Willow held Tara's hand for a moment, then they both turned to the book. Ann came over to Angel.

 

"Will she hold up?" he asked.

 

"I think so, although this is certainly not the best way for a novice to start off. Willow's very steady, which is good. All of Tara's families — father's, her two mothers', and the new one with Willow — are tough, but the others all have had more experience." She glanced over at the girls. She obviously put that worry aside and turned back to him: "Do you know the term 'fated,' Angel?"

 

"Doomed?"

 

"Yes, but not necessarily to death. You're fated. I have no idea how, just that there is something coming to you that I cannot alter. I cannot tell when or even if it will be good or ill. However, I will do what I can for you tonight, since you are the only one of us in danger from the girls' spell."

 

"In danger how?"

 

"I'm not sure," Ann said. "You and Spike are the only vampires I've met, and both Claire and Rupert Giles insist neither of you is typical, but I imagine it might be serious if you lose the magic keeping you alive, which might happen."

 

"How do you manage to avoid vampires, living in Sunnydale?"

 

"Practice.".

 

"What are you?" he asked, not really expecting a truthful answer. She surprised him with the truth:

 

"I am a work in progress," Ann smiled. "Now, hold still, Liam."

 

"I meant to ask you about that."

 

"No one else hears your name," Ann promised him, "even though it doesn't work with humans quite the way it works with Ivo and Filis. Quiet now."

 

Her green gaze seemed to engulf him like a wave of the sea. Her voice rose and fell, then died away completely. When she clapped her hands, it was like suddenly awaking or surfacing from wild surf. She opened her hands and handed him a chain and pendant.

 

"An amulet," she said. "Wear it tonight. It won't work after a week or so, unless you want me to recharge it."

 

"Thank you," he said, examining the pendant. It was two pyramids, joined at the base, of smooth, colorless crystal, There was a band filling a shallow groove between the two pyramids which had an elongated loop that threaded on to the chain. He put it on, under his shirt. It was warm, not cool, and heavier than he had expected. The chain held the pendant horizontally across his chest.

 

Tara came up then, with a list of ingredients.

 

"We found nothing in the kitchen and he doesn't have a lab," she said. "So, we need all these. We have the instruments, so that's OK. It's not a long spell — there's a lot of steps, but they should go quickly."

 

"The demons will try to distract you," Ann warned her.

 

"We ran through the spell four times. Wesley and Cordelia can run the first thing and those other things. The way we have it figured, you take us there, we get some dust from the mountain, Wesley gets the numbers, and we start. That's as far as we got, planning."

 

"It doesn't sound like much of a plan," Filis said.

 

"It's realistic," Angel said. "Nothing about a fight ever goes the way you planned anyway. We keep the Witches alive and hope their spell works and just in case it doesn't, we'll be killing the demons' openers. Frankly, I can think of anything else to do."

 

"Give me the list," Ann said, and moved over to the table where Willow sat, reading the book again.

 

"Nice amulet," Filis said.

 

"Yeah," Ivo agreed.

 

"It's an OK necklace," Angel said.

 

Filis eyed him strangely. "In this world, the chain alone would cost you about $40,000. That's ignoring the diamond doublet and the magic value."

 

"The work isn't that good," Ivo said. "It's deteriorating already."

 

Filis turned the same exasperated look on her brother. "She made it that way. Look again, and think. An artifact like that is going to attract magicians like nothing else in this city. Pretty soon, Angel wouldn't have time for anything but them. So she has limited its duration and also put a masking spell on it — one that decays at just the same rate as the protections; so that both charges wear off at the same time — leaving just a pretty pendant on a platinum chain, which is perfectly innoucous and safe for him to have. If that's not good work, she's extremely lucky, far too lucky to be under constraints the way she is. Apparently, she thinks you can deal with mortal thieves," she told Angl.

 

"I probably can," Angel said, with a quiet, humorless, smile.

 

"So why can we see it, smarty pants?" Ivo asked.

 

"We saw her make it," Filis snapped. "And I don't think we're going to remember it, once we leave here."

 

Ingredients started appearing on the table in front of Ann who handed each one to Willow and checked it off. Willow measured, mixed where mixing was required and packaged everything in order of use, then checked everything again. Satisfied, she nodded.

"Take off your shoes," Ann told her. "Tara, you too; and whoever's running the GPS. Angel, we're about ready."

 

"Get what you need," Angel ordered. "The Witches and their gear in the center. Wesley and Cordelia and their equipment near them. Ann, Ivo, Filis and me around the outside." He glanced over at Ann, then looked again.

 

Ann was dressed all in deep black and shades of red — a black knee length tunic with slits up the sides, over loose red pants, with a black and red braided, fringed and tasseled sash. She wore no shoes on her feet and her black hair, braided with red cords, was long and wild down her back. A bright double edged sword, reaching to her waist from the floor, was in her right hand. "I can handle a tighter grouping more easily," she said.

 

"Uh," Ivo said.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I think they've started. Our gate is echoing, or something."

 

"Step closer together," Angel said, then: "Ann, move us."

 

o

 

"Ouch," Wesley said, dancing uncomfortably in place for a moment.

 

"Quietly," Ann said. "I hope they haven't seen us yet."

 

"A good spot," Angel said. They were in a small hollow, mostly level on the bottom, with a steep slope behind and a pile of large rocks to the left, leaving down hill and west around the mountain open.

 

"A hill behind and rocks to the side. The rocks are on the wrong side, according to Sun Tzu," Ann whispered. "But it was here and it was useable, so I used it."

 

"Where are they?" Angel asked softly.

 

"Down and to the left," Ann said. "Wait to start the spell until we get back," she told the girls.

 

Angel, Ivo, Filis and Ann slipped down and peered over the rocks.

 

There were a lot of demons down there, fully the thirty Angel and Wesly had estimated and maybe half again as many. Concentric circles of demons watching what was obviously the ritual Angel had brought his friends and allies to stop.

 

It was an interesting performance, the costuming colorful, the dancers well rehearsed, and the props convincing. At the moment, all it lacked was a sound track.

 

There were four demons in a loose group in the center, three of them tall and well built. One held a knife, the second an animal of some kind, and the last two held smoking censers on long chains. All were dressed in long, black, heavy skirts, and over them, black aprons charged with strange symbols in yellow. The one with the knife cut the head of the strange animal and sprinkled its blood over the two with the censers. Handing knife and corpse to the second demon, the first raised his arms and chanted.

 

The second demon, much shorter than the first, and skinny, put the body and the knife on a low table behind him, took up a sword resting there, and handed it to the first demon as he finished chanting.

 

With the sword, the first demon, who seem to be the chief magician, slashed the air in the four directions and stabbed straight up, then cut a four-armed compass cross in the earth and thrust the sword down in the center of it.

 

The two censer bearers arranged themselves around the sword. They faced each other across the east-west line of the cross, each with a foot on either side of the north-south line. They began to swing their censers in large, matching circles. A fire sprang up around the sword, then extended along the four arms of the compass cross. The swingers each took a step back and the smoke from their censers turned to a circle of flame.

 

First Ann, then Ivo and Filis, and last, Angel, slipped down the rocks and back to the others.

 

"They're well coordinated, for demons," Ann said.

 

"Or they've practiced a lot," Angel said.

 

"A new Olympic sport?" Filis giggled.

 

"Coordinated censer swinging? Spend enough money, I bet it could be done," Ivo said.

 

"Quiet down, you two. Did any one else sense anything wrong with what we just saw?" Ann asked.

 

"Other than everything?" Ivo asked.

 

Ann shrugged. She still seemed unsatisfied, but she did not delay any further. "Go," she told the girls.

 

Tara opened the cloth she was carrying by the four corners, revealing a brazier with a bed of coals, in the center of a painted circle. She started dropping herbs onto the charcoal as Willow gathered up a handful of dust. Tara waved a square of white cloth in the smoke and held it out to Willow, who dropped the dust into the center.

 

"I like your Darth Maul outfit," Ivo told Ann

 

"They're traditional," Ann said, with a gentle smile. To Angel, watching her deal with the nervous Alv, she seemed as calm as she had been looking over his library the day they met.

 

Tara and Willow held the dust in the smoke for a moment, then folded the cloth over it. Tara held it and whispered briefly to it.

 

Down below, the magician demon paused in his reading, glancing around. His assistant looked about, too. There had been something.

 

"Wesley, we're ready for the numbers as soon as I'm done," Tara said, then started reading from a list Willow held up for her.

 

The magician below halted again and stared up at the rocks. He looked irritated. The assistant moved closer to him.

 

"We're about to be noticed," Ann said. "Move back from those rocks."

 

"How do you know?" Angel asked.

 

"Magicians know magic," she replied. "He can tell something is going on up here and I can sense when he bends his attention this way. I wish I could figure out what's so strange about him."

 

Below, the magician gestured and lightning struck at the rocks. It bounced off them into the audience of demons. Startled, the magician tried it again. The second lightning strike also hit among the waiting demons.

 

"Ann, what's happening?" Angel asked.

 

"He's throwing lightning at Tara. I can push it off and into his army. Like that." The magician had tried a third bolt.

 

Below, it no longer looked like a play. Nearly a fourth of the demons were down and still, some of the ones remaining standing were on fire, some of the ones on fire were running around in circles, and the scrub oaks were burning. The magician put out the burning demons, but left the oaks alone. The fires illuminated the area and cast darker shadows around the edges. He turned back to the rocks.

 

"That was clever," Ann said, as the rocks disappeared.

 

"Not an attack on Tara?" Angel guessed.

 

"Right."

 

"Is that your geas?"

 

"Yes. I am severely and strictly limited. Frequently, the conditions and the duties are in direct conflict; as they are here. I must protect Tara from any attack, physical or magical, but I can't simply blast that magician right now, even though if I did, we could all go home."

 

"Can you do anything?" Ivo asked.

 

"Not just yet. Wait. You were quite right about him. He's arrogant and impatient. I'm betting he'll do it for me. Calm down, Ivo."

 

"You seem to have done this before," Angel said.

 

"Oh, yes, but not for a while. It must have been, oh, 13 August 1944 since I've waited like this."

 

"August 1944?" Ivo asked.

 

"Which was also the month I blew up my last railway line," Ann said, smiling at him.

 

"Where were you?"

 

"France: the Falaise Gap."

 

"What were you doing there?" Ivo asked, fascinated.

 

"Blowing up railway lines," Ann said, with a hint of impatience.

 

"No, I meant…"

 

She laughed. "I know. We were fighting with the French and English."

 

"There," the magician pointed. "There. Stop them." The nearest demons started up the hill.

 

Reluctantly, Angel put that "we" aside, and stepped forward with the war axe; Ann came up beside him and rested her sword upright in front of her, her hands reaching down for the crossguards. The sword lengthened slightly, Angel saw, and her hands assumed a more comfortable angle. Why not? She could shape-shift her person, her clothes and her wine, so why not her sword? The weapons glittered in the firelight and made any verbal challenge unnecessary.

 

"Not the fighters, idiots!" roared the magician. "Get the witches!"

 

"That's it," Ann said. "I can now kill anybody on his side, unless he's running away."

 

"You were right," Angel said. He could hear Wesley reading out numbers, then Willow reciting names in a variety of languages. He glanced at Ann as she walked over to Filis. The two women moved off a little to the east and waited silently. He noticed Ann didn't seem to be bothered by being barefoot, then forgot her as a demon tried to walk past him towards Willow.

 

He killed it with an overhand blow into its skull. The battle axe wedged in the bone and was pulled from his hand as the demon collapsed. A second demon jumped him and he knocked it down the hill. He bent to wrench the axe free and Ivo yelled:

 

"Stay down, Angel."

 

Angel heard a grunt from beside him. He freed the axe and rolled away to his right, then rose to his feet as a demon fell, first to its knees, then flat on its face on the spot he had been standing before he bent down. He checked on Ann and Filis: They had a number of corpses around them, the ones slightly further away had arrows in them and the nearer ones lacked heads, but both women seemed unhurt.

 

Down the hill, the magician resumed his ritual: the assistant demon was holding a large book in front of him and he was reading, following the lines with one hand and gesturing with the other.

 

Uphill, Wesley put down the GPS and took up the stun rod and smaller stun gun. Cordelia had hers already and Tara and Willow were alternately adding herbs to the brazier and chanting.

 

After that, there were more demons in front of him and he didn't get a clear sight of the others until he looked around when Filis screamed.

 

A large purple-striped demon had her by the hair and was dragging her away. She had lost her bow and quiver. Ann couldn't reach her; there were two demons between them. Ann swung her sword in a horizontal arc, from left to right, beheading the first demon, the one on the left. She turned to her right, catching up with the sword and bringing it up over her shoulder. Her left hand rose to grip the hilt and she disarmed the second demon with a two-handed downward cut, slicing off its right arm at the shoulder. The sword shifted shape again then, the blade shrinking and the hilt elongating as it became a spear, which Ann, walking forward and changing her grip as the sword shifted, thrust into the throat of the demon holding Filis. She gripped the spear in one hand, grabbed Filis by her shirt with the other, and pulled her back beside the Witches.

 

Ann dropped to one knee by Filis and touched the Alv's face, her throat, and then her arm. Filis nodded, stood and drew her dagger, remaining by the girls.

 

Angel lost sight of Filis as another demon lunged at him, and he returned his attention to fighting.

 

Behind him, Angel heard Tara and Willow chant with increasing volume, then stop abruptly. Just as abruptly, there was an explosion from the brazier. Looking quickly, he saw something rise above the mountain and explode again. A shower of bright particles began to fall over all the mountain.

 

Below Angel came a scream of rage from the magician as his fire also exploded, killing the two censer swingers. He threw down the book, pulled a sword from the air and started up the hill.

 

Ann was engaged with a huge demon by herself. Her sword was a sword again.

 

Angel moved to intercept the demon coming up on his side towards the girls. The magician was faster than he looked and very quick with his sword. Angel dodged out of the way of a downward slice, only to receive a kick in the chest. He fell, rolled and came after the demon again. The magician was moving directly towards Willow.

 

Angel saw Wesley jab at the magician with the stun rod. The magician didn't halt although the rod sparked and crackled. He did slow down to backhand Wesley out of his way, which gave Angel enough time to cut off his down-hill leg.

 

It didn't slow him any more that the stun rod had. He continued to walk up the hill as if he had two legs. Angel cut off the demon's sword arm. The arm fell away, but its hand released the sword, which rose to the demon's side as if the hand still carried it.

 

Angel caught a flash of red and black by his side as Ann ran up. She came to a skidding halt, yelled something to Tara, then brought her sword down on the magician's blade, snapping it off short. Ann turned and ran down the hill.

 

"What is this thing?" Angel asked Ivo.

 

"No idea," the Alv said.

 

Angel hacked at the remaining leg. The sword thrust at him, unable to hit him; it was too short to reach.

 

"It's a golem manifestation!" Tara yelled, pulling Willow back. "You can't kill that."

 

"Can you petrify it?" Willow asked.

 

"You need to kill the originator," Tara said. She stooped down to pick up her brazier, then flung the ash and glowing coals into the magician's face, blinding him at least temporarily.

 

The magician slowed and brushed the ash out of his eyes. Angel cut off his left arm. The dust on his face kept on falling away from his eyes. On one bleeding leg, the torso continued up the hill.

 

Ann killed any demon in her way as she hurried down to the site of the magician's ritual. Around and in front of her, the remaining demons backed away. Ah, there. The assistant, small, ugly even for the demons they were fighting and not physically strong. Kartha ignored her.

 

Above Ann, the torso and sword turned fully toward Tara. Angel stepped in front of her, pushing her back and raising the axe. The magician struck at Tara and hit Angel, the broken sword scrapping along Angel's ribs, cutting a flap of skin and flesh loose and wedging itself in the bone.

 

Ann took the originator's head off. Angel fell forward as the sword stopped pushing him back. He twisted, falling on his side. Ivo shoved the torso down the hill as it started to crumple.

 

Any demons left alive faded back and down the mountain. Ann walked up to Angel and Willow and Tara.

 

"Ah, that's annoying," Angel said. "Give me a hand with this, Ivo. It's stuck."

 

"Lie back down," Ivo said.

 

"I don't need to lie down. Except for this sword stuck in my ribs, I'm fine."

 

"I need leverage," Ivo said. He had Angel lie down with his head uphill. Standing on Angel's right, he leaned over, grabbed the hilt, put a foot on the undamaged side of Angel's chest, and pulled. The sword came free and Ivo sat down hard, facing west, toward the Alvar gate. "Well, hell," he said. "Filis, we have trouble."

 

"Now what?" Angel asked, getting up.

 

"Can you see that circle of blue-green light, over there? Sort of flickering?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Maybe vampires have witch sight. How about you two mortals? Wesley, Cordelia?"

 

Ann was kneeling by Wesley, holding his hand and touching his face. He sat up and looked where Ivo indicated.

 

"That circle? Certainly."

 

The gate was noticeably brighter and steadier. "Well," Ivo said. "Mortals are not supposed to be able to see it."

 

"It's glowing," Cordelia said. "How can I not notice? And I can see through it."

 

"It seems to be functional again, though," Filis said.

 

"Get though it," Angel said. "Get through and shut it down."

 

"Interesting," Willow said. "You may not need to do anything. I think the firmest reality for this nexus does not include a world gate, at least not at the moment. If you don't go now, you may be stuck here until you can travel to an alternate gate."

 

Ivo and Filis glanced at each other, then turned and ran through the gate.

 

After a bright flash of blue-green light, the circle shrank to a small sphere, then vanished.

 

"Darn," Cordelia said. "I liked him, and he seemed to like me, and considering some of the boys down here, he was pretty normal. His credit rating was wonderful, too."

 

"Angel, are you hurt?" Ann asked.

 

"You are," Angel said, seeing damp red areas on her red and black tunic."I was, and I heal fast, although I may need to sleep for a day after this. Hold still." She opened his shirt and pressed the torn flesh back in position.

 

Her hand was firm and very warm against his skin. She held his other hand, and focused on him for a moment, then she frowned. "You are the hardest man to heal I've ever met."

 

"I am not a man," Angel said.

 

"Your specs are human; the vampire is just a minor change, although it certainly complicates this. Also, that reality spell is bouncing all around you. You should leave this area soon. Hold still."

 

She kissed him, gently and thoroughly. After a moment, he relaxed, feeling safe with her. She wasn't trying to get anything from him, even a reaction. A little longer and she raised her head and gave him an intent inspection:

 

"Well, that will do, but take it easy a while. You've got a cracked rib," she told him. "It's patched, not healed. Don't strain yourself and tell Claire about it in the morning. Pick up your gear, and I'll send you back to your car. And then we'll go home," she said, turning to Tara and Willow, "and tomorrow, after I've rested, I'll bring everyone back from Seattle."

 

"Ann? If you're tired, we could take us home," Tara said.

 

"I am not that tired," Ann said firmly, "But if you want to be helpful, please put out the fire."

 

"Oh. Sure." Tara and Willow moved down hill and faced the fires.

 

"Actually," Angel told Ann, "it's all your gear."

 

"Keep it," Ann said. "I think you'll put it to good use." She took a cloth out of her sash and began grooming her sword.

 

"Thanks."

 

"We did OK," Cordelia said.

 

"Not really," Wesley said.

 

"How so?"

 

“The clients wanted us to stop the demons from wrecking their gate."

 

"Yes! And we stopped them," Cordelia insisted.

 

"Right," Angel said. "We wrecked the gate ourselves."

 

"We all helped," Ann said, "even Ivo and Filis and the wardens of their gate."

 

"We saved Rodeo Drive," Cordelia said. "That's something."

 

Willow raised her arms and chanted briefly. The fires winked out. The Witches rejoined Angel.

 

"Everyone ready?" Ann asked.

 

"I think we should go," Angel said. "I can hear sirens. And these guys don't dust when they die — we'll have all these bodies to explain if we stay."

 

"You three first," Ann said, and Angel, Cordelia and Wesley were standing by the convertible.

 

"I hope they get home OK," Cordelia said. "I'll drive."

 

"Why?" Angel asked.

 

"You have a cracked rib and shouldn't drive. Wesley has no shoes and it's against the law to drive barefoot. That leaves me."

 

"The keys are in it," Angel said, and settled carefully into the passenger seat.

 

 

 

^^^^^

*Angel's age and date of change vary. Don't worry about it.

 


End file.
